The Wrath Of Khan

I took my first run in a long time chasing Chauncey from the Groomer’s front yard, down a busy boulevard, across the park and onto the trail this morning. I might still be chasing him if some kind woman had not stopped the little beggar and caught him for me! He has no conscience at all. He would stop every so often and grin at me while wagging his tail and cocking his head as if to say, aren’t I just too cute? I alternated between firm commands and embarrassing pleading.

At home he responds to commands pretty consistently (in a Shih-Tzu sort of way.) Out in the world he evidently thinks they no longer matter. It’s funny how scared I can be one moment and how angry the next. Never again will we go anywhere without a collar on.

I have never had a child who did not respond to my super quiet threatening command voice after the age of two, even my teenagers sensed that the wrath of Khan was about to descend upon them at that point. I’m not sure what they thought I was going to do, but no one ever pushed me far enough to call my bluff. Chauncey could have cared less.

I am not generally a slow learner, but it might have cost him his life today.